Lucidity
by ThrottaKaze
Summary: Free from obscurity and easy to understand; the comprehensibility of clear expression. Ambiguous pairing. Rating will go up.


Ladies and gents, I hope you enjoy this, as it's a little something to satisfy people while I bugger off to revise like a good little girl. I wonder if you can guess what the pairing is before next chapter? :P **This is a girlxgirl story. Don't like, get a lif-er, press back.**

By the way, the italics are there on purpose, and yes, it doesn't make much sense if you read them literally. Interpret it as you will :D

Sorry it's short, it's meant to be a teaser. I'll lengthen it in future. Have fun kids :'D

ooooOOOoooo

I kissed you softly, once on the cheek and then on the forehead. We'd been lying down for over half an hour now, and you commented casually that this is always what we seem to do, since both of us are too lazy to initiate anything anymore animated. Your hand is lying unassumingly palm down against my side, and its warmth radiates against my ribs, tickling me.

The soft puffs of your breath escape past your slightly parted lips, and I lick my chapped flesh to wet it. Suddenly my throat's gone dry.

You don't think anything of it, this always happens between us. We've been dancing this demented tango for well over four months now; we're in the process of breaching the fifth. I've been chasing you, and you've been ever so confused about your feelings _why?_ and so… we're still dancing. I can't stop the perspiration – we've been doing this for so long. So long and it's unrelenting.

_Can't you make up your mind?_ I wonder vacantly, as you turn your head and burrow yourself into the crook of my neck as if _the gesture isn't intimate_ as if you're a child.

Your lips twitch, and I can see the path of your eyes wander from my vantage point above you.

You're thinking about it as much as I am, no doubt. I can see the signs; I look out for them, identify and decipher them. What does it mean, when you stare so intensely at my lips, and whose lipstick marks are those on your collar, sweetheart?

You peer up at me with half lidded eyes, and for a millisecond _too short_ I can see what I hope is a pinprick of desire.

Longing?

I can feel your leg brush gently against mine and it is then that I notice how wonderfully intertwined we are. It's wonderful, no, terrible, and I bite my lip in a way that I hope goes unnoticed by you, but I think you saw anyway.

Hiding my uncertainty and suddenly feeling much like a hormonal teenager, I raise my eyebrows at you and say in a voice an octave too low to be casual, "What are you doing, babe?" My limb drags slowly, heatedly against yours to drive the point home. My groin slides alongside yours through the fabric of our clothes. You say nothing.

I don't panic, I don't grasp for straws. You look at me like you're bored. Suddenly I know that you're up for the challenge _why?_

You don't actually do anything though. After several beats and _what feels like eternity_ what I perceive to be opportunities for us to get clarity fly by, making a whooshing noise in my mind, I lose my conviction. I try not to let my disappointment show and instead wrap my arm around your shoulder and against your back. You let out a noise. I'm warm.

I want to cry and scream. I want to smash your face in and kiss you so hard. I want to break you into thousands of tiny little pieces. I don't want the pedigree, give me the bitch, I'll train you. Train you 'till you can't think straight, and the only anchor you have to this world is me, when you go between heaven and earth like a bouncing ball. You're fickle, you always have been.

"Whoosh." You whisper, breathing the words against my neck like a ghost's kiss. Only, that should feel much colder than what you give. It should, it really should. What you should be giving me should be colder, I note, I don't like _you_ this.

I pull a face and you can't see the lines on my forehead or the tiny tugs at the corners of my lips _that you so love to kiss_.

You're acting like a kid. You don't know what the hell you want, what with your fingers playing with the hem of my shirt and those soft pink petals of yours murmuring the softest of lies against my throat. The latter betrays me, flushing scarlet. I hate you.

I almost choked the words out. I think you felt my body shudder, but I don't care anymore. I hunker down, and pull the covers up from where they were kicked off over us. My hand returns to your back, and yours presses flush against my navel, tickling the waistband of my underwear.

It's risky. You're too close. The smell of your hair invades my senses and my head is spinning. I could cry.

You pull up until you're looking me right in the eye. I felt your lips against mine, and then there's no clarity at all when we're crushed together, writhing like animals in heat.

ooooOOOoooo

Next chapter, rating will go up.

Tell me what you think (:


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